


if your lips, which i have loved

by astralelegies



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Banter, F/M, Rivalry, Royai Week 2016, day 1: warmth, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7107313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralelegies/pseuds/astralelegies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Mustang, the star agent of Amestris Intelligence, comes into confrontation with his greatest rival—the infamous and elusive Riza Hawkeye, spy extraordinaire—in a bar late one night when they have both been assigned the same case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if your lips, which i have loved

**Author's Note:**

> My family has been watching a lot of James Bond lately, and the unfortunate misogynistic proclivities of those movies aside, I now can’t get a Royai spy AU out of my head. This story was inspired in particular by the (truthfully awful) “warmth from the body” line in _The Spy Who Loved Me_. For Royai Week 2016, day one: warmth. Title from the e.e. cummings poem “it may not always be so, and i say.”

He first glimpsed the Hawk’s Eye from across a crowded bar in Central’s Xingese Quarter. 

She was shorter than he’d been anticipating—only a few centimeters shy of him, really, although he’d envisioned her stature to be as great as her notoriety. When Roy Mustang’s superiors had informed him that the infamous Riza Hawkeye would likely be on this case as well, he’d had to admit that he was looking forward to an encounter. After all, she was a legend in the business, ever cool, ever collected. Rumor had it that she’d never failed a mission, and he was in no position to doubt those claims. 

And now she was here.

Stealing another glance at her, Roy set his drink on the bar and made his way slowly in her direction. Her eyes flickered briefly from their contemplation of her half-finished cocktail to meet his. Mouth quirking slightly to one side, she straightened her spine and slipped around the table to approach him.

“I’ve been wondering when you would show up.”

He flashed his usual grin. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“I make it my prerogative to remain knowledgeable about many things.”

“A useful habit, I’m sure. Drink?” 

She tilted her head slightly, shrugged a solitary shoulder. “Why not?” 

He flagged the nearest waiter. 

“Dry martini, and a whiskey neat for the lady.” 

“Right away, sir.”

“So you remain knowledgeable as well.” She gestured for him to take a seat opposite her. “Come, Mr. Mustang. I believe we have much to discuss.” 

His knee brushed against hers as he sank into the chair. Neither of them moved.

“I’m glad I finally had the opportunity to put a face to a story,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “And you really think this was a coincidence?”

“Wrongly, as I see now.”

“You’ve been in my periphery for a while,” she said, “as the darling of my rival agency.”

“You’re freelance.”

“Yes, and Amestris Intelligence is trying to run me out of a job.” 

“Who are you working for this time?”

“No one of concern to you. My clients, for obvious reasons, wish to preserve their anonymity.” 

He laced his fingers together. “Then I presume your clients, like myself, are in search of the missing Bradley fortune.” 

“They might be.” She leaned in, casting a brief, furtive glance at the surrounding patrons. “And I might be able to offer you a deal.”

He could feel her breath warm on his collarbone, making his skin prickle. She was contemplating him through narrowed eyes, closer than he remembered her being at the start of the conversation. He bowed his head almost instinctively towards hers.

“Your drinks.” 

The waiter lowered his tray onto the table between them, breaking them apart. Roy let out a quiet breath. He lifted his glass. 

“A toast.”

“To what?”

He paused, considering. “To new alliances.” 

“That’s a bold claim.” She clinked her tumbler against his. “Alright. To new alliances. And to the mutually advantageous sharing of information.” 

“I’m grateful we could form an agreement.”

“May the best agent win.”

They drank for a few moments in silence. Roy took the opportunity to steal another look at his companion. Riza Hawkeye wore her hair clipped neatly up, blond bangs sweeping over one side of her face like the bird of prey she was named for. Her movements were almost graceful in their precision; she made no wasted gestures. She had quietly perceptive brown eyes, eyes now gazing inquisitively into his own.

“You’re staring,” she remarked.

“So are you,” he said. 

There it was again, that knife-edge tension between them. Roy felt a heat creeping over him that had nothing to do with the weather, although it was a sultry evening. 

“I hadn’t realized it was summer already,” he said. 

Her mouth quirked up in earnest this time. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Mustang. It’s only now getting to be spring.”

He flushed. “So it is.” 

“Rather warm though, don’t you think?”

“Then I’m not the only one who’s noticed.” 

“Not at all.” She lowered her voice. “What can one do in such weather?”

He grinned. “I can think of a few ideas.” 

“Make no mistake, Mr. Mustang. I could kill you three ways right now, and that’s without my best guns.”

“I don’t doubt you. Which is why I thought we could turn to less bloody pursuits.”

“If that’s so, then perhaps you would like to accompany me to my hotel room. I can give you some…information. For our case.”

“The case. Of course.” He stood, offering her his arm. She almost rolled her eyes at him but caught herself just in time, settling on a smirk instead. She wove a hand around his bicep. 

They paid for their drinks and left the bar. The night air had cooled somewhat, and Roy was glad he’d worn his suit jacket. Hawkeye’s dress was sleeveless, though she didn’t seem to mind the chill. They strolled down the promenade a few blocks before pausing at the mouth of a side alley. She turned to him. 

“Did they teach you about warmth at your training?” she asked, trailing an absent finger up his chest. 

“Not…exactly.”

She grabbed his tie, pulling him closer. “Warmth from the body, Mr. Mustang. An important factor in many missions.”

He swallowed. “Right.” 

Their faces were only a hair’s breadth apart now. 

“I hope you understand my meaning, Mr. Mustang.”

“Perfectly,” he whispered. “Miss Hawkeye, I am most eager to share my warmth with you.”


End file.
